


Fifty Cents

by mattzerella_sticks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU Michael never made it through, Alternate Season/Series 14, Awkward Dean Winchester, Christmas, Cute Castiel, Cute Dean Winchester, Cute Jack Kline, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Parent Castiel, Parent Dean Winchester, Quarters - Freeform, Romantic Castiel, Sam leads the hunter network, Sweet Castiel, Toy Vending machines, and everyone is a dad to Jack Kline, food shopping, grocery stores, holiday fic, proposal, who has no health issues whatsoever because of his missing grace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 22:04:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattzerella_sticks/pseuds/mattzerella_sticks
Summary: With Christmas just around the corner, Dean has to do some serious grocery shopping - enough to feed an army. Literally. And a few extra guests. He takes Jack and Cas with him to the grocery store. But will they be bringing home only food? Or is there more to find? The smallest of things can be the most thoughtful presents, given the right meaning and intention.





	Fifty Cents

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and Merry Christmas (to all who celebrate - if you don't, Happy Holidays)! I said I'd be back with a one-shot holiday fic and I am! And this is a good one.
> 
> Partly inspired by my dear friend jessklewolf's girlfriend's parents engagement story (I tweaked a few things - creative liberty), and a little bit from a Ladylike episode I was watching at the beginning of writing. Plus the wonderful characters provided by Supernatural. All these and more came to make this fic you're about to read.
> 
> So enjoy!

            Dean might have to find a new source of income. Fake credit cards and hustling pool won’t cut it anymore, now that the Bunker reached maximum capacity. It didn’t matter most of the time, no one staying for longer than necessary before hitting the roads on their next hunt. Except Sam, the generous leader he was, decided to introduce Christmas break to the hunting community. And with Jody and Donna bringing the girls down to Lebanon as well, they _needed_ to re-stock their kitchen.

            Coupons eased some of his worry, but he couldn’t do the shopping _alone_. On his way out, he grabbed Cas and Jack. “But we still need to decorate the tree!” Sam called to him.

            Dean yelled back, “And we need food, which is more important?” When his brother didn’t answer, he knew the fight was won. “That’s what I thought, Paul Bunyan.”

            Although the help he brought wasn’t much of any.

            Jack had never been in a supermarket until then. “I didn’t require food before, and now that I do _you_ always handled buying it.” The first few times he made them wait was cute, slack-jawed in awe over all the different options decorating the aisles. But then Dean realized they’d been there an hour, and still nowhere closer to finishing.

            And Cas… “Dean, I think we can do better than these. I heard gluten-free buns are much healthier, even if they _are_ a tad more expensive.”

            ‘ _Someone’s been spending too much time with Sam…_ ’ “Cas, like I said we don’t need them. Our coupon only works for _white_ _bread_ and _rye_.”

            “But still –“

            “Look,” he stopped their carts, “As sweet as I think this is – you looking out for me – it doesn’t matter? It’s not like food will kill me… _you_ made sure of that.”

            “I regret telling you about my maintenance of your circulatory system.”

            Dean grins, kissing his cheek. “You just want to keep me safe any way you can, you big ol’ _sap_.” He blushes immediately after, still not used to such brazen displays of public affection.

            He and Cas have been learning a new dance since they’ve come together. Dean, reliant on the old routine they’ve managed for years, still fumbled with each step. Every time Cas would slip his hand into his, or their feet hooked together under a table, Dean would fight every instinct that told him to pull away. He’s lost more times than he’s won, but the numbers are slowly growing in their favor. ‘ _For Cas, I’d keep at it, even if it takes me **years** …’_

            Cas smiles back at him, tapping at his hand still on the grocery cart. “Okay,” he says, “Then let’s say we check out, then. I’m _sure_ we have enough food.” He wiggles his full cart, looking at the stuffed contents in Dean’s.

            “…Yeah.” They call Jack over from where he’s been lingering in the candy aisle. Jack carries an assortment of treats in his arms, and the puppy dog eyes Sam showed him at full blast. Dean sighs, “No, you can’t have all of those.”

            “But look!” he says, “They’re all Christmas themed! There’s some gingerbread cookies, peppermint colored popcorn, dark chocolate filled with nougat, peppermint and marshmallow-stuffed bites, peppermint –“

            “Don’t people know there’s more to Christmas than peppermint?” Dean rolls his eyes, “Look, you can get one – and you have to put all the rest back while me and Cas go to the register.”

            Jack considers his load, thinking carefully. He chooses, dropping it in Dean’s cart. “This girl was telling me about these. They’re called a ‘Dark Chocolate Orange’ – and are supposed to be delicious?” He squints then, glancing backwards, “Although, she did get rather _emotional_ when describing them…”

            Dean snaps him back into focus. “Well, all right, when you’re done go wait outside by the doors.” Jack scurries back to the aisle, disappearing. He turns to Cas. “I thought he was going with the nougat.”

            “Surprises abound so close to Christmas. Come on… I think register 3 is the shortest.” They get in line, Dean before Cas, waiting while the woman in front finishes unloading her cart before moving forward.

            There’re no problems when Dean reaches the register. The cashier glances at the conveyer, eyes widening at the size of his purchase. “Yeah,” Dean chuckles, “Got a _lot_ of family coming ‘round for the holidays…”

            “I hope they brought their appetites,” she says, scanning the first few items. Dean jokes along with her until the very end, easing her into a good mood before he springs his coupon booklet on her. She takes them all. “Have a happy holidays!”

            “You too!” He looks to Cas, “I’ll be with Jack, so –“

            “Go,” Cas tells him, “I have to push my cart up.” Dean does so, gaze never leaving Cas’s until he’s outside.

            Jack wasn’t by the doors. Instead, he was a few feet away, examining two rows of four machines. They were each half-filled, cardboard fliers taped onto their fronts. He’s toying with the flaps on the bottom, spinning the dial with his other hand.

            “Jack?” Dean asks, “What’re you doing?”

            “Looking for my prize. I spun the dial?”

            Dean feels his soul trying to escape, but by pinching his brows he manages to keep it tethered. “Jack… did you put in any money?”

            “No… why?”

            “Seriously?” Dean clears his throat, “Jack, you have to give the thing money, and _then_ it’ll spit out its junk.”

            “Junk?”

            “Y’know,” he waves a hand over it all, “All the stuff that pops out of here? _Junk_.”

            “Then why would they sell it if it was junk?”

            “Because kids can be annoyingly persistent when they want things, and parents are willing to spend… what is it? _Fifty cents_ to shut them up.”

            “…Do you have fifty cents, Dean?”

            “What? No, you’re not getting anything.”

            “But Dean –“

            “No, and that’s _final_.”

            “What’s final?” Cas steps onto the scene, cart filled with the collapsible bags Sam foisted on them years ago. Dean still opts for plastic, just to piss him off and to keep their little baggie collection in stock.

            Jack pleads his case with Cas. “Dean won’t let me get one of these pieces of junk!”

            Cas raises a brow. “Jack… if it’s junk… why would you want it?”

            He shrugs. “People buy junk they don’t want all the time. Dean said so –“

            “That’s different!” Dean, indignant, stomps his foot, “That was when we were passing a garage sale. _This_ isn’t _that._ ”

            Cas sighs, scrubbing a hand across his eyes. “Jack, why don’t you take _Dean’s_ cart and go unload it into Baby. I’ll speak with Dean about these… _trinkets_.”

            Jack beams, snatching the keys from Dean. “Thank you, dad.” He leaves them, with Dean mocking him, parroting his words in a higher pitch.

            He turns to Cas. “We aren’t letting him have any of these. He’ll get bored with it or lose it – and Baby already has enough toys jammed into her.” Cas walks past him over to the machines, ignoring him. “Cas?”

            “Can you explain these to me?” he asks, “I’m still not quite sure what Jack is asking for.”

            Dean inches closer, pressing up against Cas’s back, reaching a hand out to gesture. “So these are like mini vending machines, except instead of snacks and drinks it dumps out these little, useless items. Like a fake tattoo, tiny figurines, sticky hands –“

            “And jewelry?”

            “Yeah… fake, tinny, plastic-y jewelry.” He peeks out from the corner of his eyes, taking in Cas’s features. His brows are drawn in, and mouth pulled down at the side. From the angel of his head, Dean can tell Cas tilts it. ‘ _All signs that he’s **thinking** …’ _“You can’t be seriously considering letting Jack buy these?”

            “Well how much is it?”

            “Fifty cents –“

            “That’s all? Dean, we _have_ fifty cents. It wouldn’t be too much out of our budget.”

            “But it’s the principle of the thing! If I tell him one thing, and you another – then he’s just gonna keep coming to you!”

            “Dean, you’re overreacting,” Cas tells him, “besides… I didn’t say I’d be buying anything for _Jack_ …”

            “…You want one?”

            “Why not? It’s _my_ fifty cents.”

            “But you can use it for… literally anything else!”

            “I don’t know… that little ring there looks nice.” He points to a picture of it printed on the cardboard sign. “I might get that.”

            “Cas, you don’t get to pick and choose what you get,” he says, all the while Cas digs two quarters out from his pockets. Dean watches Cas drag them closer to the slot. “I have _tons_ of rings at home! I don’t really wear them anymore but I’m sure one can fit you.”

            It’s too late. Cas slips one in, and then the other. Twisting the knob, they wait for the _plop_ of the little egg container. He reaches inside, pulling it out. His fist stays closed, neither wishing to look at what they got yet.

            “Well,” Dean says, staring at Cas’s hand, “I hope you’re happy.”

            “Not yet… we still don’t know if it’s a ring or not.”

            “You seriously think you’re going to get a ring?”

            “I think so… do you _not_?”

            “These bad boys are like slot machines – _designed_ to rip you off.”

            “Well if you’re that sure of yourself… would you care to make a wager?”

            Dean shouldn’t rise to the bait. ‘ _This is a definite trap._ ’ But Cas looks at him with that special gleam in his eye, the one sparkle that holds all his little secrets. ‘ _As if he knows something **I** don’t._’ He’s always hated it, shining like a jewel hidden behind layers and locks he doesn’t have the time or the keys to go about freeing. Even though it tempts and sings to him. He always needed to rely on Cas dragging it to the surface and showing him. Never being able to do so without his help.

            Today is no different.

            “Fine,” Dean huffs, crossing his arms, “If it’s _not_ a ring… you have to go with Sam to that True Crime lecture weekend he’s been bugging us about all month.”

            “Okay.”

            There’s a long pause after that. “Well?” he asks.

            “Well what?”

            “What if it _is_ a ring?”

            Cas hums, finally giving his hand attention. “I guess we’ll just have to see.”

            Dean rolls his eyes. “No, I mean what do you want –“

            It’s no matter. Cas opens his hand, exposing the packaged good. He pops it open, freeing its contents. Dean wants to curse, rub his eyes, and even stick another fifty cents in and try _his_ luck. Because he cannot believe what they’re staring at: a cheap, metal ring with a plastic blue stone. “Son of a…”

            “I do believe I win, Dean.”

            ‘ _Of course… he must have cheated somehow._ ’ Dean, still, honors his word. “All right,” he says, “What d’ya got? Give Jack the talk? No hunts for a month? Bottom the next three times we have sex? Because that’s not really a punishment for _me_ …”

            “Marry me.”

            Dean’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “W-what?” His ears ring, like bells clanging around in his head. Heart beating like a war drum in his chest, Dean draws in a shaky breath. He nearly faints, legs melting into jelly. “Did you just –“?

            “I _did_ ,” Cas says, “I can say it again if you –“

            “No, no I heard you the _first_ time. It’s… do you really…”

            “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t, Dean.”

            ‘ _That’s true. You’re never known to beat around the bush… well_ –‘ “I… _wow_.” There’s a lot for Dean to process. His mind whirs and whistles like Sam’s laptop after a not-so-safe visit to some of his favorite websites. It even slips into a blue-screen-like state for a few seconds, screeching to come up with an answer. He can’t. “We – we haven’t been dating for very long.”

            “That doesn’t matter,” Cas says, reaching out for Dean’s hand. It’s limp in his grip, stunned from the shock. “Dean, I have loved you for far longer. The only benefit to our new status is that I can _act_ on my feelings. Just like you do with yours?”

            He assures Cas, “Of course. I love you, too… for so long –“

            “Then why don’t we?” Cas asks, “I mean… I know it won’t be fairly legal, you being dead and I not having a shred of credible identity. But I want you to know that I’m committed to you… to _us_.”

            “I never doubted _that_ , Cas…” Dean bites at his lip, fighting a smile. “You really wanna get married?”

            Cas shakes the ring around. “I think my gesture speaks for itself…”

            Dean knows he’s cherry cheeked, even though he willed it not to happen. Cas’s gesture was like a dip, and now Dean is scrambling for purchase on his shoulders, either holding on or falling on his ass. ‘ _I never thought about it really…_ ’ It did cross his mind, from time to time. Although in the context of normality – getting away from hunting and settling down. He knew Cas was it for him, though, as was the hunting lifestyle. Being a part of it, he never thought they could fit anything else _normal_ into their lives besides what they have now. ‘ _But really, isn’t **normal** what we make for ourselves? Jesse and Cesar did it…_’

            He doesn’t know why he needed all this time to _think_.

            Cas shifts on his feet. “If… if you don’t think we are quite ready for this I – I can understand. And I won’t take your ‘no’ as a commentary on our relationship –“

            “Y’know, Cas?” Dean cuts him off, “For future reference? Outside a grocery store is like, near the top of the list on _worst_ places for grand romantic gestures…”

            They share a short laugh. Cas peeks from under his eyelashes. “So…?”

            “ _Yes_ ,” Dean tells him, “Yes I want to marry you. I want to have the chick flick ceremony, I want to carry you over the threshold – _hell_ , I even want to introduce you as my _husband_ wherever we go.” He squeezes Cas’s hand. “I want to do everything and more with you for as long as you’ll have me.”

            “Eternity, Dean,” Cas says, drawing him in closer, “That’s how long.” They kiss, Dean laying his other hand on Cas’s cheek, brushing his thumb against the stubble. It’s one of the best kisses they’ve shared – the warm fire spreading between them soothing the frosty chill in the air. Dean pulls away, gasping.

            “ _Wow_.”

            “I know.” Cas untangles their fingers, going for the ring. He removes it from its case, grabbing Dean’s hand to slip it on.

            ‘ _It’s… it’s… it’s **crap**._’ The ring is a little tight, and he knows it’ll leave a green stain once – ‘ _if_ ’ – he gets it off. But he can’t stop smiling, his face straining for holding his muscles like that for too long. The metal can’t be any better than wire, and the stone is probably a giant sequin. ‘ _Probably the most beautiful thing I’ve seen though – well… **second** beautiful…_’ Dean looks up at Cas. “You know… this totally blows _my_ present to you out of the water.”           

            “You already gave me the best gift I could ever ask for, though.”

            “…You _really_ wanted a robe and slippers? I can’t believe you sneaked –“

            “What? No, Dean. Your answer – your _yes_ – _that’s_ what I was talking about.”

            “Oh… Cas you big romantic _idiot_.” Dean drags him into another heated kiss, both hands around his face. It’s too much for a grocery store; really, as they hold so tightly onto one another they could fuse into a single being. Anyone could walk by, and even the spirit of Christmas couldn’t keep them safe if the wrong person were to see them. And in the Midwest, the odds weren’t in their favor.

            Dean, again needing to breath, breaks the kiss. They rest their foreheads against each other, absorbed in each other’s orbits.

            That’s when Jack comes back. “Hey!” he says, interrupting their moment. Dean and Cas jump apart, rounding on the other boy. Jack barely pays them any mind, too intent on staring at Dean’s hand. “Why come he gets to have one and I don’t?”

            Dean _almost_ collapses from that. Cas chuckles, drawing Dean back into his embrace. “What do you say, Dean? Marry me… _and_ let Jack get a toy from these little machines? I mean… it _is_ only fifty cents.”

            “I don’t know… that might be _too_ much.” He doesn’t drag it out for long. Dean rolls his eyes, “Go wild, kid. But only _one_.” Jack pumps his fist, rushing over while Cas snags his cart back. “We should get these packed in. I want to get home and celebrate.”

            “As do I…” They’re walking back to Baby, Cas pushing the cart with Dean by his side. A few feet away from their ride, he stops. “Dean?”

            “What’s wrong?”

            “Did you seriously get me a robe and slippers?”

            Dean can’t meet Cas’s gaze. “…I’m not the _best_ gift giver, Cas. Remember what I got you for your first birthday?”

            “Ah yes, who could forget – a _tie_ …” Then, Cas shoots Dean a dirty smirk. “Although, if I remember correctly. You _more_ than made up for it once we made it back behind closed doors. The tie came in pretty handy then…”

            “…Shut up and start hauling.”

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think? I'm a sucker for Cas proposing to Dean. Plus, again, this is another stab at doing established Dean/Cas instead of a 'getting together' fic (I almost made it that way before I STOPPED myself).
> 
> I hope this fic brought you some well-needed holiday cheer! Let me know what you think by dropping a kudos/sharing your thoughts. I love reading them!
> 
> Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays!


End file.
